


Creating a Monster and Other Things You Swore to Bruce You'd Never Do If He Let You Use His Lab

by The Little MerBucky (blue_pointer)



Series: Lightning in a Bottle [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Awkwardness, Bruce doesn't care Tony, Ejacurella, First Time, Humor, M/M, My Squishy, Obsessing, Pining, Post-Civil War (Marvel), Sam Wilson is a Gift, Sam Wilson knows you're lying, Science Bros, Seduction FAIL, Therapist Sam Wilson, Therapy, Thor Is a Good Bro, Tony-centric, buckyxtony, codger emails, history of stony, one-armed hugs, playboy bunny Tony, premature smut, winteriron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-16 00:19:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11242344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_pointer/pseuds/The%20Little%20MerBucky
Summary: After kidnapping Bucky from Wakanda and waking him up, Bucky is finally getting some therapy.Tony THINKS. He's been left out of the process. So he does some spying. Finds out Thor sleeps with Bucky at night.Between Sam suspecting that Tony isn't giving him the whole story of what happened between him and Bucky, and Rhodey accusing him of being juvenile, Tony has had it.Then Bucky shows up in his workroom, and things get interesting.





	Creating a Monster and Other Things You Swore to Bruce You'd Never Do If He Let You Use His Lab

**Author's Note:**

> That escalated quickly.

**** “So,” Sam asked. “You wanna tell me what the two of you were talking about when it happened?” 

“No,” Tony said, doing his best to look busy. 

“Tony.” Sam sounded annoyed. “We’re not even in your workshop.” 

“Are you objecting to my cleaning the kitchen? Because feel free to mop up after yourself and your filthy heathen friends, Tweety. Be my guest.” Sam strode over and grabbed the rag before Tony could go on scrubbing. “Rude.”

“Tony. I need to know what happened if I’m going to help him.” 

Tony sighed. “Fine.” He threw down the sponge because Sam had taken the rag already. “What do you want to know?” 

Sam’s eyes narrowed.  _ Damn _ . Did he know Tony was hiding something? Tony needed to walk away. Right now. But he needed to be subtle about it, so he sauntered instead. “It all happened so fast.”

“Uh-huh.” Sam had his arms crossed over his chest. It was a thing he liked to do when he was arguing with Rhodey over how awesome Uncle Sam was. And Rhodey would be saying how great being career military was, and Sam would say ‘uh-huh’ just like that. 

“So I guess I was giving him a pep talk.” How subtle would it be to saunter right out of the room? Tony wondered. 

“Really.”

“Yes!” Tony turned around. “What, you don’t believe me?” 

“I think if your pep talks end in someone jumping off the roof, they need work.”

“Okay, well I didn’t say it was Winston Churchill level!” Tony was starting to get miffed.“I caught him, didn’t I?”

“Yes you did.” But he said it like it was an accusation. 

“What are you implying?” Tony demanded. 

“I don’t know,” Sam rubbed his chin. “What’re you confessing?” 

“Nothing!” Okay, even Tony knew he’d answered that too quickly. 

“Uh-huh.” 

“Listen, is this interrogation over? Because I have work to do.” Tony was almost out of the room when Sam’s voice caught him.

“He wants to see you.” 

“Well, he has eyes, doesn’t he?” Tony stalked off. But he felt strange. Something like indigestion whirled in his belly. Why did the demon child want to see him after he’d almost killed him and then broken his nose?

Revenge?

 

*

 

“Look, all I’m saying is I didn’t do anything wrong, so why’s he treating me like I did?” 

Bruce was cleverly looking into his microscope, pretending to listen to Tony. “Maybe you’re acting guilty,” Bruce suggested. 

“That’s absurd. How am I acting guilty?” 

“Well, for starters.” Bruce cleaned the lenses of his glasses before he put them back on. “You won’t stop talking about it.” 

“What? That’s ridiculous. I’ve been trying to close the subject for days. It’s Wilson’s fault. He won’t let it go. He thinks I’ve got some sort of hidden agenda…”

Bruce sighed. Maybe he should invest in some earplugs. 

 

*

 

Therapy had been going on. Tony was sure of it. The three of them would lock themselves in a room for hours. But no one would tell Tony what had transpired. They hadn’t even asked to use the BARF. Tony had had enough of being kept in the dark. This was his house, and he didn’t like secrets. Also he needed to know if Barnes and tattled on him. So he cornered Thor at breakfast one morning. Sort of. Maybe caught him alone was a better description. 

“Not that I care, but like. How is his...face?” 

“Do you refer to the nasal bones which you broke after he tried to end his life by jump--”

“Yes!” Tony interrupted hurriedly. “Yes. I mean--not that I care.”

“If you do not care, friend Anthony, then I do not understand your inquiry--”

“You know what? Forget it. Forget I asked.” 

Thor considered this. “I will require more beer.” 

“Okay, why are you so--nevermind. Just pretend I never asked.”

“Is it a game?” Thor wanted to know.

“Yes,” Tony answered quickly. “It’s a game called Help Tony Keep His Sanity.” 

“It sounds like an exceedingly difficult game…”

Tony whirled to look at him, then. Was Thor being...salty?

Thor stared quietly at Tony. He wasn’t grinning. He wasn’t threatening. He was just sort of...thoughtful. “You wish to know how he fares…” He stroked his beard. “I do not believe friend Squishy would like me sharing his confidence with you,” he said at last. 

“Oh come on,” Tony said, doing his best to act like it was no big deal. “We’re all friends here. Besides, I’m just trying to make sure he’s alright.” Wait, was he admitting something he wasn’t prepared to admit? No, no. It was just about that whole broken nose thing.

“He sees bad dreams,” Thor said. “When he sleeps, he struggles quite a bit.” 

“Wait, struggles? Struggles against what? You mean, just. Like he’s a fitful sleeper?” 

“Many times I have had to employ my considerable strength to keep him still.” 

Tony suddenly had the mental image of Thor pinning Bucky down on the bed, his long, muscular form stretched out on top of--

“Friend Anthony?” 

Tony blinked. “What? I was paying attention.” 

“Do you wish to hold my Squishy in his sleep?” 

“What are you--?” Tony did his best to look disgusted. “God, no! That...thing? I wouldn’t be caught dead--” Thor wore a grave expression. “He’s right behind me, isn’t he?”  

“He is no longer behind you.” 

“Dammit!” Tony went back to his lab. At least there he could fix whatever damage he caused. 

 

*

 

It seemed like days Tony was alone after that. It was better that way. Alone, he wouldn’t have to think of Steve--not true. Or his stupid little troll--not true. He wouldn’t be interrupted---also not true. Thor came to check in on him often. But he never talked about Bucky much. It was almost like he’d decided not to give Tony any more information. 

And Bruce was sick of hearing about it. And Sam had to psychoanalyze everything. And Vision kept bringing him glasses of water. And Rhodey told him to stop moping around like a lovesick teenager. And that was unnecessarily rude. 

“Stop acting like you give a damn about what mood I’m in,” Tony grumped, tightening a bolt that didn’t need tightening. 

“Why don’t you go back to your room and read sad poetry?” Rhodey suggested. “Start wearing mascara again. Paint your nails black.”

“What, you don’t like ‘em natural?” Tony asked, smirking, holding up his grease-covered hands. 

“Hell, I’ll paint ‘em myself,” he said. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

“Nothing’s going on,” Tony said.

“Okay, well when you decide we’re best friends again, you just let me know,” he said, wheeling out of the workroom. That made Tony angry. Just because he had nothing to tell didn’t mean they weren’t best friends anymore. 

 

*

 

Then one day, he turned around, and Barnes was just. There. In his workroom. Tony tried to ignore him. That trick worked on 80% of people. Welding goggles on, music blaring, can’t-see-you body posture going on. Why would he possibly stay? But then Tony turned to grab a different soldering iron and there he was. Still. Standing awkwardly off to one side of the work bench. 

Tony decided to intervene before conversation happened. “Hand me that, would you?” He pointed at the tool he wanted. Bucky dutifully handed it over. 

“Thanks, you can go now.” Dismissal had to work, right? But when Tony turned to lay the iron down, Barnes was still there. 

“Did you forget something?” 

“No.”

“Well then why are you still here?” Okay, that was rude, but he clearly wasn’t getting the picture the more subtle way. 

“I came to talk to you,” Bucky said, but he looked hesitant. Uncertain. 

“That’s nice,” Tony said, turning away and getting back to work. 

An hour later, and Bucky was still there. “Oh my god, fine! I get the message! What the hell is so urgent that you have to come in here and wait for me to acknowledge you?” 

“Consent,” Bucky said softly. 

“Okay, you want consent? I don’t. Now get out.” 

“You kissed me,” Bucky said. “Why?” 

“Look, it was a mistake, kid, let it go. We’re not gonna talk about it. Like ever again, okay?” 

He looked over at Bucky’s expression, forlorn, as he sat there alone. “Unless you want to, I mean. I’m totally over it, but maybe, you know. You have questions. And I’ll try to answer them if I can, I’m just a generous guy like that. Philanthropist, that’s one of my titles.”

“It is?” Bucky asked. 

Tony sat across from him. “Yeah, sure. Genius, playboy, billionaire, philanthropist.” 

“So why did you do it?” Bucky pressed on. 

“Why--what do you mean why did I do it? You know what?” Tony walked away, hurriedly, unable to look at him. “Only little kids ask that question as much as you do.”

“What?”

“No, not that one.” There was something he needed over here in the corner. Sure there was. 

“Why?”

“That’s the one.” 

“Why?”

“Now I feel like you’re just doing it to annoy me.” Tony started as Bucky was suddenly standing right next to him, demanding Tony look him in the eye. 

“You said you’d try to answer my questions.” 

Tony wanted to let loose, tell him to scram for real, but. The poor lamb. He still had that special tape over the bridge of his nose where Tony had broken it. Tony reached out without thinking. “Aren’t you supersoldiers supposed to heal extra-fast or something?” 

“It doesn’t bother me,” Bucky said, not flinching as Tony’s fingertips danced across the latex. 

What was he doing?! Tony hurriedly walked away. “Yeah, I guess I did say that.”

“So why did you do it?”

“You know, as the great philosopher once said...why do we really do anything?” Tony focused on his wiring. “What’s the meaning of--you know, whatever? Some questions are better left unanswered.” 

“So you’re not gonna tell me.” Why was the guy standing behind him again? It was like he was trying to have a conversation that Tony was determined to avoid. 

“Maybe I don’t know,” Tony suggested, enjoying the sparks of the welding torch now. “Did you ever think of that, smart guy?” 

“You didn’t ask yourself--”

“No, I didn’t. And you know why?” Tony whirled to face him. Then realized he shouldn’t have. “Because nothing good ever comes of introspection, that’s why. Good day to you.”

“Huh?” Bucky looked utterly lost.

“I said good day!” 

“Tony...it’s night time.” 

“Oh, for--” Tony tore off his safety goggles to glare at him. “You don’t make anything easy, do you?” 

“I’m not tryin’ to make things difficult, Tony--” Oh god, why was he quoting Steve all of a sudden? 

“Well you could have fooled me.” He crossed his arms over his chest. Glare glare glare. 

“You want me to go?” What was with those sad beaten puppy eyes? How did Hydra manage to brainwash him with eyes like that? 

“Honestly I don’t care,” Tony said, turning back to the bench. 

“Can I watch?” Tony suddenly went stiff. Not literally, but. Oh god, why was Bucky standing so close? Bucky leaned over the table, glancing at the wiring. “What’s this for?” 

“It’s a secret,” Tony said, whipping it off the bench and tucking it into a drawer. 

“You don’t want me to watch?” Bucky asked sadly.

“Would you stop saying that?” 

“What?” 

Tony sighed. “At least you’re not asking why anymore.” He wandered through the workroom, looking for something more simple to work on. 

 “Why?” 

Now look here--” But when Tony turned around, Bucky was smirking. Or was that a tiny smile? Either way, he seemed to think he was pretty funny. “Oh, so now you’re making fun of me.”

“No.” 

“I see how you are. Bust into Tony’s work room just to ask him awkward questions and make fun of him.”

“I didn’t.” He was starting to look distressed. 

“Calm down, sugar,” Tony told him. “If you can dish it out, you’d better be able to take it.” Silly him, thinking for a minute Steve’s traumatized pet might be capable of normal human interaction.

Bucky looked confused. “Food?” 

“Yeah, honeypot. Food. You better be able to take food, because I’m about to load you up.” Okay, how had that come out sounding lewd?

“You got a load for me?” The smirk was hesitant this time. Boyish.

“You wish!” God, why was it so hard to just find a simple project in this mess? 

“Tony?” 

And why was he standing so close again?  _ Go away, demon child. _ Tony moved off in a different direction. “Yeah?” 

“You said you’re a playboy?” 

God, why was he asking about this? Surely. Surely he wasn’t going there. Surely. Why were Tony’s palms sweating?

“Playboy?” Bucky asked again. “You mean like the magazine?”

“Well, sort of.” Tony didn’t like to brag. Okay, maybe he did. “I’ve dated quite a few centerfolds--or I did, back when I was single--” ouch. 

But Bucky was looking at him thoughtfully. “I think you’d look cute in bunny ears.” 

“Okay, what are you smoking?” Seriously, was this the brain damage talking? “Men don’t dress up in those outfits. It’s the girls--what did they do to you in Russia anyway?” 

“And the little tail,” Bucky said, grinning softly, taking quite a peek at his derriere. 

“Are you--” Tony covered both cheeks, one hand on each, deeply offended. “Are you looking at my ass?” 

Oh god, he had been.  _ Deep breath, Tony. Don’t freak out _ . “How dare you? I mean--it’s the best ass you’ll ever see, but I didn’t let you into my workshop so you could ogle me.” And it wasn’t as though he adored being ogled or anything. Even by fuzzy trolls. 

But Bucky was grinning, and that was somehow encouraging. “Okay, well. Maybe just a little peek.” He took one hand away, stuck his hip out. 

Bucky smirked. “I can’t really tell.” 

“What? Now you’re just baiting me. The best ass in this country and you say you can’t tell from just one buttcheek?” 

Bucky shrugged. “It’s got clothes on it. And a hand.” Oh no he wasn’t. Surely he wasn’t implying what any normal person would be implying by that.

Tony pointed at him, warning. “I know what you’re doing.” 

“What?” Bucky asked, leaning forward on the table, biting his lip. 

“You’re trying to catch me off-guard. Get me to admit something that’s not true.”

“What’s not true?” Bucky asked, eyes sparking with interest. 

“You’re hoping I’ll say I kissed you on purpose,” Tony said, turning away, trying to snub him. “Like I had some kind of ulterior motive or something.”

“You kissed me by accident?” Bucky asked, sounding confused. 

“Yeah, absolutely,” Tony lied. “We just came out of a--you know, near-death experience. That’s what you do in those situations.” 

“Kiss someone.” Bucky didn’t sound like he was buying it. 

“I mean--give me a break--you were the only one there. What was I supposed to do, dig up a groundhog?” 

“Six more weeks of winter,” Bucky suggested. 

“What--now you’re just making no sense.” Tony turned away, shaking his head. “It’s August, cupcake. Get your seasons right.” 

Suddenly, Tony froze. Someone was touching him. Not only that--someone had their arm around him. And their body was...really close to his. What was happening? He hadn’t given permission for this kind of touching. “What are you doing?” he asked, still frozen. 

“You’re little,” came the calm response. “I wanted to hug something that’s little.” 

Tony should have been insulted. Mortally. He knew that. But it had been so long. And Bucky’s big, beefy arm felt so similar to Steve’s big, beefy arms…

“Is it...okay?” he asked, when Tony didn’t respond. 

“No!” Tony snapped. 

Bucky’s hold loosened, and he began to pull away. “I didn’t say stop!” Bucky paused with his palm on Tony’s stomach, hesitating. “Well, go on,” Tony prompted him. “Hug me. You may as well finish now you’ve started.” Oh god, that phrase was giving him so many ideas…

“Kay.” Bucky’s palm slid back across his midriff, slipping down to cup his hip. He pulled Tony close, and they just stood that way for several long moments. “I like hugs,” Bucky said, after long silence. “Nobody ever hugs me.” Another pause. “Except Steve.” 

“Yeah, I just bet.” That broke the spell for Tony. He moved out of Bucky’s embrace, made himself look busy again. 

“Do you like hugs?” Jeez but the boy was persistent. Again, like Cap. Why like Steve? Why? 

“Nope, I hate ‘em,” Tony answered easily. “Terrible things. Should be outlawed.” Had that been too much sarcasm? He’d meant to leave some doubt in the fried supersoldier’s mind. To make it unclear whether Tony was serious or not. 

He suddenly found himself back in the one-armed embrace. Apparently he’d been a little too heavy on the sarcasm. 

“Is that the truth, though?” he asked softly. Maybe too softly. What was he, breathing in Tony’s ear? Did he really want to get his nose broken a second time?

“Mostly,” Tony said, doing his best to sound flippant. “Of course, I used to get hugs from the man I loved, from Cap. But then you came along and he stopped loving me, so. C’est la vie, right?” 

Because they were standing so close, Tony felt Bucky’s hesitation. “But I never told him to stop loving you,” he said. Was he really that innocent? Was ANYone really that innocent?--well, except Vision.

“Don’t rub it in,” Tony grunted, moving to the other side of the workbench to get away from the one-armed octopus. 

“Rub what?” Bucky asked, trying to meet his eyes across the workbench. 

“That he picked you over me, okay?” Tony was done playing subtle. “You didn’t have to tell him anything, because he just decided it on his own. He loves you more than me, okay? He made that abundantly clear!” 

“How?” Okay, now he had to be playing stupid. Tony just glared at him. 

“I don’t know, sweetcakes. Maybe that little stunt where he beat the hell out of me and left me to die before running off to Wakanda with you.” 

“He thought you were gonna hurt me,” Bucky explained, as if Tony hadn’t gone over and over it in his mind a thousand times. 

“Don’t be naive,” Tony grunted, tossing aside a used ratchet. Wrong size. “I  _ was _ going to hurt you. Did my absolute best.” 

“Nuh-uh,” Bucky said. “You coulda killed me plenty of times. You just wanted to play tug of war.” 

That surprised Tony into looking up. “Are you accusing me of pulling my punches?” 

“No,” Bucky said, in that simply blunt way of his. “I’m saying you did. Fact.” 

“So why would I do that?” Tony asked, placing a hand on his hip. This explanation should be interesting. 

“You’re not a murderer,” Bucky said. “I know. ‘Cause I am one.” 

“Takes one to know one, huh?” 

“Yep.” 

“You’ve just got an answer for everything, haven’t you?” And how did this guy know so much more about him than the man he’d woken up in bed next to every day for two years?

“Nope.” 

“You think you’re pretty clever, don’t you?” He knew a smartass when he saw one. It did take one to know one there.

“Nope.” 

“Why are you here?” And what did Tony have to do to get him to leave?

“You never answered my question.” Bucky took a step closer.

“I told you, maybe I don’t know the answer.” Tony could have sidestepped around the workbench. Instead, he chose to be cornered up against it. 

“I think maybe you do.” Closer.

“Shows what you know.” Tony turned his head, pretended something else had caught his attention. 

“Yup.” So close their chests were nearly touching.

“Are you gonna kiss me now?” Tony could smell Bucky. He smelled of leather and hair gel. Very Danny Zuko. 

“Do you want me to?” When he whispered, it was like the softest growl. 

Tony had no answer for that. Thankfully, Bucky did. He kissed Tony fast and quick, but hard. So hard his lips stung afterward. 

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he said, pausing to look into Tony’s eyes. 

But Tony was having none of this eye-looking business. “Shut up.” He jerked Bucky’s lips against his, holding him by the scruff of his shirt. 

“I don’t know why--” Was he really trying to make logical sense of this? This insane shit that was watching someone sleep in a glass box and wondering what their tongue tasted like? 

“Shut up. It doesn’t matter.” Tony was the one to silence Bucky with a kiss this time. 

“Okay, but--” 

“No more talking. More kissing. You like this cute little cotton tail ass? Put your hand on it. Give it a squeeze.” 

And he did. “Oh god!” He was excited as a teenage boy. Maybe Steve hadn’t made sweet love to him in Germany after all. Maybe Bucky hadn’t had any since 1944. 

That idea excited Tony. A lot. He wrapped his legs around slender hips and squeezed, wanting to feel more of Bucky against him. “Just…” It was hard to give instructions when he was this excited. “Just…”

 “Aren’t there cameras in here?” What? Why was he losing his nerve now?

 What, you want me to cover up the cameras?” Because he had a plan for that.

Bucky seemed to consider this. “No.” He started to wriggle out of his jeans. Who’d given him this three sizes too big pair anyway? Tony helped him push them down over his hips, wanting to touch that ass. Needing to see how big his dick was. Was it as big as Steve’s? Oh god, why was he thinking about Steve again? 

“Ah!” Bucky gasped, and Tony felt something wet against his thigh. 

“Wait, seriously?” 

Bucky hung his head, ashamed. 

“Babycakes...no!” Tony had to try not to laugh. “That is absolutely the sweetest thing anyone above the age of majority has ever done for me.” 

“Oh god.” Now he was trying to escape. With his pants sagging open. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” 

“Hide. Wash up.” 

“Well it just so happens there’s an emergency shower in here.” And that would mean getting to see more of him...answer some questions. 

“No I can’t!” Bucky said in a rush. “Sorry. I’m sorry.” And then he was off, fleeing the room like a premature Ejacurella, stained ball gown and all. 

“Well thanks anyway!” Tony called after him. “Looks like it’ll be just me and my hand again tonight.” 

“Sir, are you quite alright?” Tony fell backwards off the bench. Vision gave new meaning to coitus interruptus. 

“I heard shouting.” 

“Nope.” Tony picked himself up. That wasn’t arthritis. That was an old knee injury. From that time the suit wouldn’t come off. Yep, that’s all it was. “Everything’s fine, junior. Go back to your chess game.”  

“But...I saw Mr. Barnes--”

“No kidding, me, too. It’s a funny old world.” Tony started to limp away. 

“Are you quite certain--?”

“Leave it alone, junior. Sometimes dad has to lick his wounds in peace.” 

“Very well.” Vision started to float away. Tony felt like a real shit-heel. What sort of dad would let his son think he didn’t want him around?

“Hey.” Vision stopped mid-float. Turned back. “It’s not you, okay? Dad’s having...relationship issues.” Vision opened his mouth to speak. “No, you can’t help. But thanks. For wanting to.” 

Vision nodded and floated off. 

“So, how’d it go?” Was everyone just dropping by his workroom uninvited today? 

“Please don’t tell me that was your idea, Wilson.” 

“Nope. All his.” And that was what worried Tony. Just what did Bucky think he was going to get out of...whatever had just happened? 

“Has he talked to Cap since…?” 

“Not in person, but they been writing emails.” 

“Wow. They really are a couple of old codgers.” 

“He says it helps him get his thoughts together. Gives him time to think about ‘em first.” That made sense. Steve wasn’t the patient type. He would have jumped on Bucky the second Bucky had given him permission. He should really...hack those emails to see what they were talking about.

“That’s nice. I mean, if I cared.”

“Right, yeah. So did he do it?” 

Tony was suddenly done with this conversation. He turned away, started to organize his tools. “What, come in here and make a nuisance of himself? Obviously.” 

“Uh-huh. Well, you let me know if you wanna talk about it. Or, you know, you need a buffer when Steve finds out.” 

Tony stiffened. “Why would Steve find out?”

“I thought he just came in and made a nuisance of himself.” 

“I mean, right. Of course.”  _ Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god. _ There was a difference between stealing your ex’s boyfriend and stealing his boyfriend. 

“Uh-huh.” 


End file.
